


Hindsight

by mrs_javert



Category: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, F/M, Loss, Memories, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26409139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_javert/pseuds/mrs_javert
Summary: While La Sirena is berthed at a space station for supplies, Seven receives a letter from a nearby vessel.Raffi gains a glimpse into the past as Seven is thrown into turmoil as its contents reopen old wounds and long buried memories she has tried so hard to move on from.
Relationships: Chakotay/Seven of Nine, Raffi Musiker/Seven of Nine
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle as this is the first fic I’ve written of any kind for a number of years

Hindsight

Chapter 1 - The letter.

Within the depths of the Daman system a medium sized station floats in the cold of space.  
The Daman ship repair station is composed of a dull grey metal and, despite approaching it’s 67th year of active service, still has a steady stream of client vessels arriving and departing weekly.  
It’s capacity permits it to berth six ships at any one time to enable repairs, or to allow crews a little R&R within it’s limited facilities of two bars, a casino, a holodeck (currently out of order), and six shops for supplies ranging from food and clothing to non-replicatable vessel parts.  
Today three vessels sit berthed at Daman.  
The Ferengi freighter “Kraxton” damaged by a fire in its cargo bay, the small new C-class Federation starship “Cenwulf” awaiting the delivery of a part for its faulty starboard warp nacelle, and the freighter La Sirena which had arrived to restock its general ships stores.

“It’s time!”.  
The woman stood at the transporter console acknowledged the call.  
She was tall, her complexion dark and toned and her wild hair a mass of curls as full of life as as she was.  
She wore and black top, cropped at the shoulders, a pair of jeans that may have seen better days and black boots that stood firm on the deck.  
Three hours after the last transport from La Sirena the transporter pad illuminated with energy at the agreed time as it’s systems awoke, initiating a beam in as its human cargo materialised.  
“Ah, our tourist returns...”, came a voice from the operator at the transporter console.  
“Thank you Raffi”.  
Jean-Luc Picard stepped down off the transporter pad, his look appearing quite formal. He wore a crisp dark green shirt, a smart pair of dark trousers, and black shoes polished to a standard that Starfleet officers were never permitted to forget.  
A somewhat antiquated holo camera dangled from a well worn strap around his neck.  
It was enough to imbue an air of almost formal informality, a show of respect without overdoing it.  
Raffi joined him at his side as they began to stroll slowly away from the transporter, two great friends with a deep respect for one another that few could match.  
“So how was your little tour?”, Raffi enquired?  
“You know Raffi...”, Picard began to explain as he walked, “...the Cenwulf is a remarkable ship, truly remarkable. These C-class are medium range science vessels. Starfleet began introducing these a little over two years ago but this is the first time I’ve seen one with my own eyes. Thier job is solely for short term research, no long term exploration, just pure science and analysis, ideal for sectors with unusual stella phenomena, the study of worlds for colonisation, and the technology Starfleet have packed into these little ships? Incredible!  
For example, the long range sensors are almost beyond anything we had on my first Enterprise back in the day, and did you know that the science lab computer banks now have...”  
“JL...JL...JL...”, Raffi stopped and turned to face Jean-Luc, pointing expressively and repeatedly to herself with the index fingers of both her hands.  
“Raffi”, she reminded him, “Raffi... Raffi who isn’t and never was a science officer”.  
Picard opened his mouth to speak, closing it just a moment later and fixing this dear friend with a genuine smile of friendship.  
“Rambling old man?”, Picard queried.  
“Mmm, kinda headed that way”, Raffi nodded, hoping Jean-Luc would recognise the intended cheekiness within both her answer and pursed lipped grin.  
A momentary pang of guilt washed across Raffi’s mind at having halted her dear friends enthusiastic tangent. It was clear Jean-Luc had thoroughly enjoyed his tour of the U.S.S Cenwulf.  
Tours of Starfleet vessels were not given to just anyone and yet earlier this very morning he had been thrilled to announce that he had been invited onboard by an acquaintance he knew amongst its crew whom he had bumped into while exploring the station.  
Raffi would berate herself later she decided.  
They began to walk again side by side, La Sirena’s deck now being noticeably shinier since the EHH had taken the opportunity while docked to initiate a thorough deep clean and polish of all walkways.  
“She really is a fine vessel though”, Picard looked to Raffi, “If you like, I can always call my acquaintance and arrange a tour for you?”.  
Raffi breathed out and shook her head with a smile, “Mmmm I think I’ve had my fill of Starfleet JL... but thanks anyway”.  
Picard nodded in sincere understanding at his dear friends reluctance.  
“Alright then... we’ll, I’m going to change into something else and then I’ll be along later for a good meal. I’m rather famished after this afternoons tour”.  
Raffi nodded and turned to walk away from Picard.  
“Oh Raffi...”, Picard had stopped.  
Raffi turned back to see him produce a small white envelope from his pocket.  
“I almost forgot”, he admitted and then cast his eyes around the deck space in which they both stood, “Would you happen to know where Seven is?”.  
“She’s in the mess, familiarising herself with the specs of our weapons systems. I should know, I interrupted her...”, Raffi rolled her eyes and shook her head giving a slightly exaggerated gesticulation to her referenced faux pax, “...Hence why she’s down there and I’m banished indefinitely to up here”.  
Taking a step towards Raffi Picard held the envelope out for his good friend to take it.  
“Would you be good enough to pass this on to her? Someone onboard the Cenwulf would very much like to meet with her”, Picard nodded.  
With a nod Raffi took the envelope, “They don’t have a comm system on that fancy ship?”.  
“Apparently not”, Picard smiled in thanks before turning to head to his quarters to refresh.  
“Oh and JL”, Raffi called after Picard, “Once you’re changed and showered come back in an hour, I’ll be in the mess. You can tell ‘Newly minted science officer Raffi’ all about your tour. You choose the meal, I’ll bring the stinky tea!”.  
She smiled greatly as she saw Picard nodding in agreement as he walked away.  
“It’s a date”, he confirmed.  
Perhaps he would get to tell the story of his day after all, Raffi felt with relief.  
Still smiling Raffi turned her attention back to the job at hand.  
She looked at the envelope.  
It was small, note-let sized with simple joined up ink penned writing, something people tended to no longer bother with these days.  
The writing simply said “Seven”.  
‘Informal’, Raffi observed as her feet took her towards the mess, ‘Not Seven of Nine, just Seven’.  
With a “Hmmm...” Raffi placed the letter into the back pocket of her jeans.

It took just seconds for Raffi to reach the steps that descended to the deck below within which could be found the communal crew mess area of La Sirena.  
Quietly she made her way down the first couple of steps, trying hard to keep the noise to a minimum.  
She noted Seven still sat at the first table with several PADD’s surrounding her, some displaying text, the others displaying advanced schematics of La Sirena’s limited weapons system.  
She held a PADD in her hand, her eyes studying it closely, her blonde hair loose over her dark blue sleeveless top and her leather jacket placed on the bench seat to her right.  
“I come in peace!”, Raffi called across quietly, almost a loud whisper, raising her hands high as if surrendering.  
She recalled beating a cautious retreat from the mess a little over an hour ago.  
What had occurred had in reality been far less dramatic than she had played it to Picard.  
Having agreed it with Rios Seven had spent the afternoon absorbing information on the weapons systems, it’s history, it’s components, and was theorising vital upgrades to both weapons and shields.  
Seven had described La Sirena’s defences as “inadequate” and “underachieving” given the possible adversaries both crew and ship could find themselves coming up against, especially since they had distinctly upset both the Zhat Vash and the Tal Shiar.  
Once Rios had come back down from the inevitable offence he had taken he had listened intently to Seven’s detailed suggestions of how to boost La Sirena’s defences, granted her access to the data she requested, and left her to study all the information she required in peace.  
Raffi on the other hand had been unwittingly unable to go so much as ten minutes without interrupting Seven’s train of thought.  
Did she fancy a drink?  
Would she like anything to eat?  
Would she like the onboard temperature adjusted?  
Had anyone seen Elnor since he went to look around the station by himself?  
Eventually the frustrated bang of the metallic Borg left hand on the table surface had been Raffi’s cue to leave.  
Disengaging from ‘chatterbox mode’ Raffi had made her waffled apology and slunk out back up to the next deck and towards the transporter area to await Picard’s return at the agreed time of 16:00.  
From her vantage point on the stairs she saw a noticeable intake of breath and then a sigh as the xB laid the PADD down on the table and turned her head to look in the direction of Raffi’s whisper.  
“What?”.  
Stepping forward with a cautious smile Raffi made her way further down the metal steps until she reached the deck of the mess, all the while being observed by Seven, her work yet again interrupted.  
“It’s important”, Raffi assured, lowering her raised hands as she approached.  
Raffi stopped just a mere centimetre or two behind Seven. She leant over Seven’s left shoulder, brushing her cheek purposely against Seven’s own while her right hand found its way to Seven’s right shoulder and gave a light squeeze.  
To her relief Raffi felt Seven breathe out, her body relaxing to her touch.  
“Sorry ‘bout earlier...”, Raffi quietly spoke into Seven’s ear, punctuating her sentiment a moment later with a gentle kiss on the cheek.  
“You want something”, Seven observed turning her head to glimpse Raffi.  
She raised an eyebrow, and a subtle grin that most people would never even perceive grew slowly on Seven’s face as thier eyes met.  
“Oh I want something honey but we can attend to that later, your place or mine by the way?”, Raffi winked as she withdrew, moving herself to sit astride the bench seat Seven also occupied, her hand smoothly making its deliberate way across Seven’s warm shoulders from the right to the left before parting from her.  
Seven turned to face Raffi, neither speaking for several moments as both simply looked, each observing the other as if admiring a beautiful picture.  
“My place”, Seven finally broke the silence, decisively tapping her human fingers on the table top with her decision, “You should be aware that Picard has given me two bottles of his vineyard’s red. I suspect he’s trying to convert me”.  
“Oh Hell, tell me it’s not the damn 86 again?”, Raffi queried, leaning in towards Seven.  
Seven sat back momentarily, a smile forming as she watched Raffi sit up and place her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand.  
Raffi could swear she heard a quiet chuckle under Seven’s breath.  
Raffi noticed little things like that.  
“He told me you would say that”, Seven confirmed.  
“Damn that man”, Raffi breathed and shook her head in feigned disappointment, “collaborating with you like this”.  
Seven smiled, nodding in a pleased satisfaction.  
“Consider yourself pencilled into my extremely busy diary for this evening Ms Musiker”, Seven reached slowly for Raffi’s head-supporting hand, brushing her human fingertips along Raffi’s smooth cheek as she did so, “19:00. My quarters. You were lucky to get an appointment so late in the day”.  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world...Red wine and Seven of Nine!”, Raffi beamed and then laughed far louder than she intended as she spotted her unintentional rhyme.  
“In moderation Raffi...”, Seven made a slight nod, her tone becoming a little more serious and her eyes deliberately ensuring that Raffi’s own were locked firmly onto hers.  
“Hey the wine or the Nine?”, Raffi asked doing her utmost to fake an innocent shrug.  
Seven took in a clear breath, exhaling a moment later before looking directly at Raffi and bringing her metal riddled left hand to join her right in holding Raffi’s hand.  
“You know what I mean... One of these you may indulge, and be indulged by...”, Seven nodded with a playful smile before grasping Raffi’s hand a little tighter as the tone became less playful, “the other...just go a little easy, okay?”  
Biting her lip Raffi broke away from Seven’s gaze and momentarily looked down at the deck.  
“Well, since we appear to be each other’s conscience now, the angel on each other’s shoulder”, Raffi raised her head and looked back up, bringing her other hand to join both of Seven’s around hers, “then it goes for you too. We’re a team now, we gotta look out for each other. And besides, you drive a damn hard bargain Seven you know that?”.  
“I am aware”, Seven continued to smile at Raffi.  
Moments passed, and then moments more as neither moved to break the warmth of the hand hold.  
Finally Seven moved the fingers of her left hand, delivering a soft tap to Raffi’s knuckles from her metal encased finger tips.  
The tap snapped Raffi out of thier mutual gazing.  
“Raffi? Didn’t you come down here for something important?”, Seven reminded, “or were you just drifting through the ship propositioning everyone?”.  
Raffi’s eyes widened momentarily.  
“Shit!”, she cursed.  
She rose to her feet, reluctantly freeing her hands from Seven’s grasp and fumbled for her jeans back pocket, retrieving the envelope Picard had given her.  
Sitting herself back down again she placed it on the table.  
“You’ve got mail Honey!”, Raffi announced, placing her finger on the “S” of Seven’s name and pushing the envelope in front of Seven so it sat directly before her.  
“What’s this?”, asked Seven.  
“Postman Picard asked me to pass it on to you”, Raffi explained, “Apparently someone on that fancy starship wants to meet you real bad”.  
Seven looked down at the envelope which was now slightly rounded from having been pressed into the shape of Raffi’s sat down back pocket for some time.  
“I’d never heard of that starship”, Seven replied, “not until yesterday”.  
She picked the envelope up, her eyes analysing the handwriting as if a vague yet distant memory derived possibility was beginning to form in her mind.  
“Well?”, Raffi urged, her hands making a ‘go on’ gesture as she watched Seven look the envelope all over front and back as if searching for any clue she could detect.  
Seven looked to Raffi in silence as if searching for some silent support in her uncertainty.  
Raffi nodded.  
Finally Seven began to open the envelope, the fingers of her right hand tearing the paper open to reveal its contents.  
Raffi watched as Seven pulled a folded piece of notepaper out and discarded the envelope back down onto the table.  
She said nothing as Seven unfolded the paper, shuffling back slightly along the bench to give Seven a few extra inches of space to read privately.  
There was silence as Seven read.  
The playful expression Seven displayed almost exclusively for Raffi’s pleasure had disappeared from Seven’s face taking along with it her body’s relaxed disposition.  
‘Damn’, Raffi thought, trying hard to read anything she could discern from Seven’s face.  
The silence continued, before eventually a frown formed.  
Finally Seven reached the end of the note. She breathed in, let out a sigh of clear displeasure and screwed the letter up, tossing it onto the table top.  
“No”, she said, her voice an extremely firm reply to the letters contents, “Not a chance in Hell.”.  
Raffi didn’t like this at all.  
“Everything alright babe?”, she enquired, moving herself nearer once more to sit alongside Seven and placed her arm around the xB’s shoulders.  
After some moments Seven sighed, looking at the screwed up letter, “It’s nothing”.  
“The Hell its nothing!”, Raffi noted.  
Seven remained silent and it was clear to Raffi that many thoughts were now surging through Seven’s mind as she processed the letter.  
“If it’s private I can shut up, leave you to your thoughts...”, Raffi offered reluctantly, her thumb repeatedly stroking Seven’s shoulder.  
Seven let a breath out, her shoulders and body again relaxing to Raffi’s reassuring presence.  
“It’s not private”, she sighed and reached out, passing the screwed up note to Raffi, “read it”.  
“You’re sure?”, Raffi double checked, unscrewing the mangled paper with her left hand, “I mean it’s your business not mine”.  
“It’s fine”, Seven reassured, reaching up with her right hand to touch Raffi’s own over her shoulder “I just wish the past would leave me alone”.  
“I know babe, believe me I know...”, Raffi soothed, a gentle tug of her arm encouraging Seven to lean against her as she looked down to read this letter that had so clearly troubled the woman she loved.

————

“Dear Seven,

I hope this letter finds you well.

I know it’s been a while, nineteen years I believe since any of us from Voyager last saw you.

I admit I’m still in the dark as to what happened all those years ago, what caused you to feel the need to disappear from our lives, but I’m sure you had your reasons.

Regardless of what’s past, I would very much like to catch up with you before we leave.

I’m onboard the Starship Cenwulf currently docked at berth two.  
We depart in approximately 36 hours once a repair is complete.

If you are available I have a bottle of Pinot Grigio (real, not replicated) chilling over here and two glasses.

Just beam over at 19:00 tonight.  
Our transporter chief will be expecting you.

Please also extend my thanks to Jean-Luc for passing you this note.

Regards,

Kathryn Janeway  
Admiral”

——————

Silence ensued for several long seconds.  
Eventually Raffi took in a deep breath and sat up straight as she collected her thoughts on both the letter and Seven’s reaction.  
She breathed out once more.  
Carefully, the former intelligence expert pressed her hand over the letter, flattening it out and undoing some of the scrunches that had been inflicted on it before turning her head back toward Seven.  
Still, nobody spoke for some time.  
“Okay I’m just gonna call it, say it as I see it”, Raffi finally spoke.  
Seven remained still, leant against the warmth of Raffi and the sensation of her curls touching her shoulder.  
“I think you’re scared to go over there”.  
Raffi said it and then watched carefully to see if Seven would react as precisely as she felt she would.  
“Mmm...”, Raffi pursed her lips as she both observed and thought, her heart dipping a little as Seven pulled away, “Are you aware that when someone makes you uncomfortable you take in a deep breath, sit up straight and tilt your head slightly forward as if bracing for something? Remember last month when Elnor asked what assimilation feels like and we all sat there in stunned silence? I gave him an absolute rocket for that after you stormed off by the way. But that’s how you react when somebody hits too close to home babe, and that’s precisely how you’re reacting now.”  
Seven continued to observe, Raffi noting her occasional break of eye contact, as if she were losing a game of staring Raffi out.  
Seven never lost at anything.  
“So I can only guess that some shit went down in your past, and I mean something big, cos you know what?,” Raffi held her nerve and pressed the subject a little further, “you never mention Voyager, or the people on it, infact you go out of your way to avoid the subject entirely as if it’s toxic”.  
Reaching forward, Raffi gently pushed a lock of Seven’s blonde hair behind her ear.  
Seven did not resist.  
“It’s okay...”, breathed Raffi in a tone much quieter and gentler”, “I haven’t told you every dot and comma of my life yet either”.  
Once again the crew mess fell to silence, with only the ambience of La Sirena’s essential systems humming in the background.  
Growing concerned, Raffi reached out once more, taking a firm hold of Seven’s Borg augmented hand and clasping it with both of her own in her lap.  
“Hey don’t go quiet on me babe”.  
Seven let out a breath and placed her right elbow on the table.  
Leaning forward she rubbed her forehead hard with her fingers, brushing over her Borg implant, then rubbing her eyes before looking back at Raffi with a vulnerability Raffi had never seen before.  
Finally Seven spoke.  
“Raffi, do you know anything about dogs?”, she began in a manner unusually quiet.  
“You’re losing me here babe...”, Raffi shrugged.  
“Do you know that if a dog is trained well enough in early life it will learn to become obedient to its master, obey its masters commands, live within its master’s boundaries, and accept whatever scraps it is given?”.  
Raffi shook her head in confusion as she tried her hardest to look into the blue eyes and reach into Seven’s soul to find the point she was clearly trying to make.  
“Seven, babe, I really don’t understand what you’re getting at”, Raffi answered.  
She felt her heart beginning to ache as she sat helpless, watching as the xB struggled hard to find the words needed to express herself.  
“Captain Janeway holds an interest in dogs”, Seven explained, “and when the master whistles the obedient dog comes to heel”.  
“What are you saying?” Raffi’s voice increased in its urgency as she struggled to make sense of the words.  
Seven brushed her right hand through her long flowing hair before looking down, her own shoulders falling as she stared down at the deck and her own boots before glancing back to her only source of safety.  
“It’s been almost twenty years and now Captain Janeway expects her pet drone to return, obedient as ever”, Seven cast her eyes once more upon the letter before bringing them back to watch Raffi.  
“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”, Raffi questioned.  
“I’m tired Raffi, tired of something good being within my reach only to have the past interfere time and time again.”, Seven grasped Raffi’s warm hands tighter with her Borg left hand as if grasping for safety.  
Sitting astride the bench Raffi let go of Sevens hand and reached out, placing both her arms around Seven and pulling the xB towards her and into a warm embrace.  
“Shhh, shh...”, Raffi shushed.  
She brushed her fingers reassuringly through Seven’s hair as she held her, rocking her gently whilst at the same time heartened to atleast feel Seven returning the embrace and resting her head against Raffi’s shoulder.  
Raffi waited, deciding to savour this moment and allow both of them a few moments of peace within which to think.  
Gently she rubbed Seven’s back, her hand fully aware of the now intimate familiarity of the tritanium embedded in her lovers spine, a part of Seven Raffi always ensured she touched one way or another so as to reinforce her view that she didn’t look upon Seven as being different in any way - that they were both people who were simply put together differently.  
“Seven honey listen to me”, Raffi spoke, her mouth close to Seven’s ear, “I may not know what happened to you nineteen years ago, and it’s up to you if you tell me babe...But here’s what I think...”.  
Delicately Raffi released her embrace, pulling back slightly and leaving Seven with little choice but to sit back up as well.  
“Like I said I don’t know what happened, but what I do know is if it wasn’t for Voyager you’d still be out there in the Delta quadrant stood there hooked up to some dark alcove on some Borg cube, god damn machines violating that mind and body of yours every single day and...”, Raffi paused, shutting her eyes tight momentarily and wincing as she thought of the inhumane existence Seven had endured for so many years as a Borg, “...and this beautiful person, this warm, compassionate and unselfish soul I see before me now...wouldn’t be here”.  
Seven closed her eyes momentarily as if desperate to hold in a reaction while processing the depth of feeling in Raffi’s words.  
A warmth formed in Raffi’s eyes as she watched, knowing by now that Seven’s outer defences were a mere barrier to deflect how she truly felt inside.  
The warmth moved slowly down Raffi’s cheek. She was about to raise her hand to wipe it when Seven’s Borg hand beat her to it, reaching out and gently wiping the escaped tear as it rolled down her cheek.  
Raffi smiled.  
“You think I should go don’t you?”, Seven looked at Raffi and then to the tear now moistening her metal finger tips.  
Raffi ran a hand through her own curls, “You might be overreacting, what if it is just a catch up? A drink and a ‘Hi, how you doing?’”.  
Seven rose to her feet, Raffi watching her every movement as the former Borg stepped away from the table and stood in thought.  
“No, I don’t want her digging”, Seven bit her lip in contemplation, “I don’t want her disapproval”.  
“Seven...”, Raffi watched, “I really wanna understand...”.  
Seven took another step, stopping at the next table and raised herself up to sit on the edge of the cold metal table top, lifting her feet up and planting her boots down onto its bench.  
Raffi remained where she was, watching Seven and knowing that the blonde was struggling internally to decide wether or not to proceed with her thoughts.  
Seven moved her head slightly from where she sat, causing waves of her hair to fall forward to partly obscure her face.  
“Towards the end of our journey”, Seven finally began and folded her arms across her chest protectively as she spoke, “There was someone on Voyager...”.  
Seven paused. She cast her eyes around the mess area and then up as far as she could see toward the deck above, checking all around to ensure thier conversation was private before she spoke again.  
“He was...my first”.  
“Ah...”, Raffi raised her head and a small smile of comfort grew on her face at this glimpse into a past Seven had not yet spoken of, “I think I see now”.  
Seven unfolded her arms, placing her hands on her knees, her fingers jittering in a barely perceptible manner in her discomfort.  
“His name was Chakotay”, she revealed.  
“Voyagers First Officer?”, Raffi raised both her eyebrows and gave a long whistle of approval as she attempted to lighten Seven’s mood, “aim for the top honey!”.  
Seven’s expression gave way to a small smile which Raffi immediately reflected on her own face.  
“And it didn’t work out between you and him, so what? I don’t think Janeway’s gonna care about that”, Raffi extended her arms out in a wide shrug, “Who the hell would after almost twenty years?”  
Seven stepped down from where she sat on the table and strode to the other side of the mess as memories long buried stirred within her.  
Again she pushed her hair back, clearing her face of her locks.  
“He was kind Raffi, gentle, loving”, Seven spoke more powerfully now and paced again, this time back to the opposite side of the mess, “he never judged me, he knew what I was an he accepted it, just as you do. He cared for me, and I cared for him...”.  
She stopped in the centre of the mess almost close enough to reach out to Raffi.  
With clear agitation Seven turned her body slightly towards Raffi and pointed with her left hand to the traces of silvery/grey Borg components exposed through the always incomplete skin of her upper right arm that, despite the years, had never been able to fully heal.  
“You see this?”, Seven audibly tapped the components with the metal of her fingertips and then held the Borg augmented left hand itself out for Raffi to see clearly, “and this? This destroyed us”.  
Seven pulled her left hand back and looked upon it herself. She flexed her fingers several times as her eyes traced the path of irremovable metal that began at her fingertips and both snaked and spread out over her hand before moving up her arm like a metallic web, the metal then burrowing itself back under her flesh where it inseparably bound itself to the bone and nerves of her body.  
“This destroyed what we had”, Seven let her arm fall to her side, “and I...I destroyed him”.  
With a rapid shake of her head Raffi too stood up and stepped out from the bench she sat upon.  
Enough was enough.  
Decisively she took the couple of brisk steps she needed to bring her standing face to face with Seven.  
“That’s enough of this bullshit”, she reached out as she spoke, grasping Seven by the shoulders and gaining her full face-to-face attention with her unexpected action.  
Seven glared. It was a glare Raffi returned in equal measure.  
“I am so done listening to you beat yourself up! Take it from a pro honey, what’s past is past, mourn it, cherish it, learn from it and move on!”, Raffi’s voice increased in force with every word she spoke.  
Continuing to make her point Raffi moved her hands down, one taking a firm hold of Seven’s Borg splintered upper right arm, the other helping itself to take an equally firm hold of Seven’s metallic left wrist.  
Seven briefly attempted to pull away, to wrest her wrist free, but Raffi’s grasp held firm in her determination to enforce the point she felt such urgency to make.  
“And your implants? Damn they make you beautiful but if you wanna go sit at the back of the damn bus just cos you look a little different then you carry right on babe, knock yourself out!”, Raffi implored, “You’re an xB! It’s who you are, embrace it! Be it! Live it!”.  
She released her grip on Seven and both remained stood, neither seeming willing to back down, each strong woman holding other’s firm eye contact until ultimately the tense fire in both women’s eyes subsided and died away after moments that felt like forever.  
“We had a date fixed for tonight”, Seven spoke up ending the uncomfortable stand-off and offering Raffi a conciliatory smile.  
Adrenalin having finally calmed Raffi smiled back, “We have a date fixed every night, or had you not kept count?”, she punctuated the sentence with a wink.  
“I’ll go to Janeway”, Seven abruptly stated.  
“Woah, you’re sure now?”, Raffi was taken momentarily off guard.  
“I will hear what she has to say”, Seven agreed, “then I shall return...to you”.  
“And I’ll be waiting”, Raffi’s smile grew.  
Seven stepped forward and closed the gap between herself and Raffi while sliding her hands around the taller woman’s waist.  
“Thank you”, Seven spoke looking up into Raffi’s dark eyes.  
“What for? Talking a little sense into a stubborn, headstrong, ass kicking space chick? Piece of cake!”, Raffi reciprocated the closeness, wrapping her arms under Seven’s and around her back, gazing into the blue eyes she held before her.  
“No, for being Raffi”, Seven said with gratitude as they held each other.  
Raffi dipped her head forward so both women’s foreheads were touching.  
It took just a mere moment for thier lips to touch.  
Eyes closed as each drew into the other, both sets of hands pulling the other nearer, blonde hair and an avalanche of curls mingling into one as the embrace of two powerful women became mutually less tender and equally more passionate.  
A clatter of boots sounded from the stairs, pausing midway as the wearer came to a shuddering halt.  
“Oh joy, dinner and soft porn”, Rios looked down from the steps at the scene before him, “nobody said that was on the mess room menu tonight”.  
Raffi flipped him two fingers.  
Rios continued his way down the stairs, passing both Seven and his old friend.  
He just wanted his dinner, that was all.  
“Get. A. Fucking. Room!”


	2. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kathryn Janeway recalls events of the past as she waits to find out if Seven of Nine has accepted her invitation to meet for the first time in twenty years.
> 
> Where did it all go wrong?

Hindsight

Chapter 2 - Reflections 

Onboard the U.S.S Cenwulf...

“Personal log, supplemental.  
It’s been several hours now since Admiral Picard beamed back to his ship, taking with him my letter extending an invitation to Seven of Nine.  
Seven of Nine... now there’s a name I’d come to believe I would never hear again.  
I must admit that after all the heartache she caused, the despair she left Chakotay in, there’s a part of me that could happily throttle her.  
But Seven was never one to act without good reason... if only she could have seen the mess she left behind.  
However, just between me and this log entry, there’s a huge part of me that cherishes the opportunity to see Seven again. I’ve found myself wondering a lot about her through the years, wondering how she was, what she was doing, and who she had eventually become.  
I know she lost Icheb and that must have devastated her, he was an inspirational young man, a credit to her tutelage.  
Despite this, I must speak with her.  
She was...is...my friend, and the small details, vague rumours uttered in passing that I’ve heard recently give me great concern for who or what she has become.  
That is of course, if she even accepts my invitation”.

Kathryn Janeway looked in the tall mirror and absorbed her reflection.  
With a nod she was satisfied at her appearance, shoulder length dark hair beginning to surrender itself to an emergence of silver and grey that could look back and tell a thousand stories.  
She placed her hairbrush down onto the bedside table of her quarters, noting how little her hair had changed its eventual style over the years.  
“Computer, what is the time?”, she asked.  
“The time is 18:54” the computer answered.  
Janeway adjusted her red blouse and black trousers once more in the mirror as she reluctantly acknowledged the rising level of aprehension building within her.  
She had aimed to dress in a manor that was both off duty yet very much in control, as if to invoke memories of times past, of a time of being being 75,000 light years away but still being very much the one in both command and control.  
It had been several hours since she had passed the hastily penned letter to Jean-Luc and requested that he be kind enough to take it back with him to its recipient onboard the La Sirena.  
Seeing Jean-Luc Picard again had been an unexpected delight, and later on guiding him around the Cenwulf as her personal guest had been a joy.  
It was however the bombshell he had dropped while recounting the story of his recent adventures, and how he had come to be onboard the La Sirena in the first place, that had stunned Kathryn Janeway to her core.  
She recalled his words as they had enjoyed refreshments in her office, his an earl grey tea and hers a coffee.  
“And in the midst of all this the fighter, the one that seemingly came from nowhere and sustained heavy damage in our defence, began to break up.  
Ofcourse we beamed the pilot to safety and before we knew it there she was standing bold as brass on our bridge, one of Voyager’s finest Kathryn, Seven of Nine”.  
She recalled her open mouthed shock at hearing this and her hand briskly steadying her coffee.  
She moved to compose herself quickly at the realisation that Seven who had so abruptly removed herself from the lives of all who knew her nineteen years ago was right now onboard the vessel berthed next to hers, that she was mere meters away.  
“Computer the time again?”, Janeway requested.  
“The time is 18:58”.  
Kathryn Janeway turned from the mirror and walked away towards her office, her head held high and her posture business like.  
Her quarters onboard the Cenwulf were split into two main sections, the reasonably comfortable living quarters and her office which were separated by a door that slid shut behind her as she passed through.  
Sat on her desk by the reasonably sized window was the bottle of wine, a decent quality Pinot Grigio (not replicated), and two glasses.  
The wine was nicely chilled, an ensign having brought it up from cold storage upon her orders fifteen minutes ago.  
“It’s now or never Seven”, Janeway urged as she leant with her hands on the window ledge and glanced out to the view of the freighter La Sirena.  
Many times this afternoon Kathryn had considered the distinct possibility that this could be a waste of time.  
After her almost two decades of silence Seven had sent no acknowledgement of the letter and Janeway considered it highly unlikely that Jean-Luc would have simply forgotten to pass it on.  
“Damn you Seven”, Janeway gritted her teeth as she breathed out, her mind beginning to take Seven’s silence as a typically direct Seven-of-old way of giving an answer.  
She knew the hour of 19:00 was upon her, perhaps it had now even passed?  
Lowering her head in expected defeat Kathryn felt the disappointment wash over her and yet she still felt torn as she let out a forlorn sigh.  
Torn because there were twenty years worth of explanations she wanted, needed, from Seven, and there were matters she herself felt an obligation to take up with her.  
Yet despite the pain Seven had caused, a large part of Kathryn had been keen to see Seven again, to learn how she was, where she had been and, most importantly, who the awkward young woman she had so cautiously taken under her wing onboard Voyager had developed into without her guidance or input.  
She shook her head, pushing down the instinct to judge Seven for the actions of nineteen years ago when she herself could only guess at the motive.  
She knew Seven had struggled, this fact was undeniable.  
Aboard Voyager, particularly towards the end of thier journey, it seemed she had finally reached the point where she seemed both comfortable and content within thier unique and often dysfunctional ship-wide family.  
Kathryn cursed the timing as she thought back to those times and how it once warmed her heart to see Seven often emerging from her cold Borg nature and seeing not the former drone but the makings of a beautiful young woman who was well on her way to becoming more confident with everyday situations that others simply took for granted.  
It had been enchanting to witness.  
That was until everything changed and Voyager returned to Earth far sooner than anyone had foreseen.  
If Kathryn had known the much desired return had been so close she would have done everything she possibly could, pulled out all the stops to help Seven prepare for her sudden ‘re-assimilation’ into human society.  
The truth was, Seven had not been even close to being prepared for the complex society that was Earth.

Kathryn continued again to stare at the La Sirena as she internally reminisced, her fingers tapping the ledge as still no update came regarding a visitor.  
Janeway felt both frustration and sadness but continued to think back...

To say Seven had struggled on her return to Earth would be an understatement.  
Her return had infact been an unmitigated disaster which had, with the gift of hindsight, perhaps been blindly inevitable all along.  
The Federation all of Voyager’s crew returned to was not the optimistic Federation they had left. An air of change had been noticeable from the moment they returned, preempting several shifts in Federation policy and attitudes in years to come that had been planted by the destruction, mass casualties and sheer death toll wreaked by the Dominion war.  
It had been a Federation beginning to change.  
The more militaristic Admirals within Starfleet, particularly those who had seen first hand the unspeakable horrors committed by the Jem’Hadar, had pleaded with the top brass and demanded that Seven be held for intelligence ‘debriefing’ until such time as she divulged all vital Borg information and secrets that she knew. She was, they pushed, a possible enemy and should be thoroughly assessed to deem wether or not she should be perceived as a security threat.  
Kathryn had been thankful when Federation common sense, a little of which still remained at that point, prevailed and the request had been refused.  
Seven’s rights as ‘Annika Hansen’ had been upheld and her freedom granted without any further question.  
The Starfleet ruling found that as a Federation citizen ‘Annika Hansen’ could not be held and interrogated for having been ‘Seven of Nine’ any more than the Captain of Starfleets very own flagship Enterprise could for having been Locutus of Borg.  
Both, The Powers That Be determined, had been victims of the Borg and not willing collaborators.  
To deny her rights would violate the very principals both Starfleet and the Federation still held dear at that point.  
With this obstacle cleared Kathryn had been happy for Seven, proud even as she read each week a regular ‘status report’ the former drone had fallen into the habit of sending her with great punctuality every Saturday evening at 20:30.  
It had begun to sound perfect, the messages spoke often of the nuances of making a home with Chakotay, meals from new recipes she had prepared by hand, and her observations regarding the quirks of human society. There was even the occasional photo image included at Chakotay’s behest.  
Janeway chuckled as she recalled the last image Seven ever sent her.  
It had been taken by a pond during an afternoon stroll and depicted both Seven and Chakotay observing the wildlife.  
Seven had described the image in her typical manner as “delivering sustenance to species Anas Platyrhynchos”, or as Chakotay had put it in a separate message, “feeding the ducks”.  
Kathryn smiled as she thought back over what Chakotay and Seven once had.  
If she were honest, Seven and Chakotay were a pairing she had never seen coming and together they had kept it very much off her radar.  
Her first suspicion had been entirely something else. Seven suddenly becoming tardy in her work onboard Voyager and her holodeck usage time becoming extreme.  
Thinking back to those events Janeway now felt a pang of shame at her own actions.  
Acting on her gut feeling that something was wrong, Captain Janeway had used her security clearances to access Seven’s personal holodeck programme.  
She had expected to find something terrible, that perhaps the Borg had found a way to contact and manipulate Seven via the holodeck systems and that her lateness and errors had been caused by a hostile external force bent on using her as a pawn.  
Upon seeing the truth behind Seven’s simulations Janeway had felt thoroughly sick at her own actions.  
Knowing the depth to which she had violated Seven’s deep personal privacy, even if it had been out of a genuine concern for her welfare, Janeway ended the program and promised herself that she would never speak of it.  
The holo-Chakotay bringing flowers, Seven’s simple attempt at creating her own living space, and a bed that had clearly been slept in, possibly the first sleep Seven had ever experienced... Janeway had found these revelations endearing, perhaps even sweet, but with a tinge of sorrow upon considering that Seven must have felt it necessary to explore these perfectly normal desires in secrecy.  
It was only a short while later that Janeway began to notice that a real relationship had evolved when Tuvok’s weekly security report had raised concerns regarding the use of several unauthorised site to site transports within Voyager.  
The users had masked thier trails well but hadn’t taken into account Tuvok’s tenacity for investigation.  
Only when the sources and destinations of the transports, and who the patterns matched, was revealed did Kathryn call upon their years of friendship and appealed for Tuvok to let the matter be.  
She had been pleased when the security chief had agreed, believing also that her large slow wink when referring to who was involved and the need for discretion had been silently understood.  
Tuvok never raised the matter again.  
She fully understood why both chose to keep the relationship discreet.  
Years earlier Chakotay had been publicly humiliated before the entire crew, used and ridiculed by his last love Seska.  
Chakotay was a very private man and it made sense that he would not, given the past, broadcast his personal life to those it did not concern.  
As for Seven Kathryn thought, externally she would have appeared calm and collected, yet internally she would have been highly apprehensive, afraid even, of not knowing or fully understanding what to do. She would have deemed discretion essential.  
Only a very short time later did everyone’s world suddenly change and Voyager was home.  
With Seven confirmed as a free citizen everything should have been so simple.  
The home she and Chakotay had made was pleasant.  
Chakotay found himself teaching cadets survival skills at the academy and all that remained was for Seven to find her much promised path in life.  
It did not happen.  
From then on Seven had begun to increasingly withdraw as it became clear that nobody within the careers of various sciences, research, warp mechanics, shield development, simple star charting or her favoured astrometrics would offer her a position.  
The career path Kathryn had always felt such genuine belief that Seven would naturally fall into with her skills and flourish within had slammed every door of opportunity shut.  
For this Kathryn had always felt a deep sense of guilt, remorse and perhaps even shame.  
She had spent years aboard Voyager extolling the virtues of the Alpha quadrant to Seven from her ready room, ennobling the greatness of Starfleet and the Federation, promising Seven that the opportunities each of these entities held were boundless.  
For years Kathryn had wondered if Seven had held any of this against her, wondered if Seven now considered her promises to be errors or downright lies.  
On several occasions Kathryn had wanted to broach the subject and apologise for the many disappointments, express her own surprise and personal disgust at the sheer prejudice she had never foreseen Seven being faced with for having been Borg.  
And then that had been it... Seven one day disappeared, leaving behind her many unanswered questions, many deeply concerned friends, and Chakotay utterly distraught with worry, hurting to his very soul and betrayed yet again by a woman he loved.

The comm system chirped, startling Kathryn from her thoughts.  
“Admiral Janeway, your guest is now onboard in transporter room one”.  
Kathryn’s heart rhythm jumped as the impact of this simple statement struck her like a rock.  
“Thank you, please have someone escort her to my office”, Janeway replied.  
She stood up straight, taking in a breath and steeling herself for the reunion to come as she acknowledged that the unthinkable had occurred...  
Seven of Nine had accepted the invitation.  
She was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Trudy and Paris, my Voyager binge watch buddies for input!
> 
> Somewhat huge thanks to Jeri flippin’ Ryan for answering our question via cameo regarding how new Seven would react to meeting Janeway.
> 
> Oh and if you wondered, Janeway would have been informed of the death of Icheb as a) he’s Starfleet and b) Starfleet would have most likely informed her as he was ‘one of hers’ from Voyager and c) she may have even been one of his next of kin contacts on Starfleet’s records.
> 
> Please do comment, getting a little comment notification is the fuel that keeps me writing x x


	3. Elephant in the room.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven’s reunion with Kathryn Janeway gets off to a rocky start as twenty years of hurt, animosity and thoughts about the past come to the surface over several glasses of wine.
> 
> Will they be able to overcome it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- One of my favourite things about Star Trek: Voyager is ANGRY JANEWAY. So there’s nothing better than the times Seven and Janeway get into a good old clash of opinions and personalities ;)

Hindsight

Chapter three

Elephant in the room.

“This way please Ma’am”.  
Seven nodded, looking to the young Vulcan ensign as she stepped down from the transporter pad of the Starship Cenwulf and followed him out of the room.  
She cast her eyes in silence as he led the way, noting the designs, the decor and most importantly the route back to the transporter room.  
It was a strange feeling, Seven had to admit, being back onboard a Federation starship.  
Although Seven had never seen this ship before it held that familiar Starfleet look, feel and layout that immediately reminded her of Voyager.  
The silent walk took only a few minutes, yet Seven used every moment to compose herself as she walked.  
She thought back and considered how close she had come to refusing her former Captain’s invitation for this reunion, how unnerved she felt at the very idea of having the past raked up and questions inevitably asked.  
Perhaps Raffi might be right, perhaps it would be a simple catch up. However, Seven knew that if there were questions about the past left unanswered, and in this case there were many, then Kathryn Janeway would be the one to ask those questions.

========

The ensign reached for the door chime which responded with a typically Starfleet sound upon his touch.  
“Admiral, your guest is here”, the young Ensign reported.  
“Show her in” came the reply.  
Upon hearing the unmistakable voice of Kathryn Janeway Seven took in a breath and the fingers of her left hand flexed involuntarily as she steeled herself for the reunion that was now mere moments away.  
The door opened and the ensign respectfully gestured for Seven to enter.  
She cast him a quick nod of thanks and stepped inside before coming to a halt as her eyes fell upon the form of Kathryn Janeway stood waiting before her.  
Seven’s form automatically became rigid, standing herself up straight and clasping her hands behind her back. She breathed in and her shoulders tensed with the prospect of this reunion.  
Neither spoke. The Admiral stood before her coffee table just feet away from Seven.  
Seven silently observed, noting that Janeway’s eyes were taking in her appearance as she stood before her former Captain wearing her boots, dark green trousers with thier many zipped pockets, dark sweater and leather jacket. A far cry from the bio suit she assumed the Admiral to be expecting.  
It took a moment but Seven soon realised she was doing the very same, studying the details of the now older Admiral, her hair beginning to sport shades of a silvery grey that her natural colour appeared to be battling hard against. The admiral was clearly off duty and her black trousers and red blouse rekindled memories of Janeway’s uniform colours from the years onboard Voyager. ‘Deliberate choice’, Seven thought.  
After a moment a smile formed on the face of the admiral and she held out a hand to gesture her newly arrived guest in, “Seven... it’s so good to see you again after all this time”.  
“Captain”, Seven nodded in return as she took a couple more steps into the room and noted that she had never moved on to addressing the now former Captain Janeway by her promoted rank of Admiral.  
Janeway’s smile grew larger as, despite obvious changes in appearance, she began to recognise the mannerisms of old that she had not seen in almost two decades.  
“Relax Seven”, Janeway smiled broadly, “this isn’t Voyager and we’re not about to butt heads over how to tackle some crisis, those days are long past. Come, sit...”.  
Janeway moved back towards her large round coffee table which sat a short distance from her office desk. A rounded semi circle of a light coloured sofa surrounded the table and Janeway indicated for Seven to sit.  
Allowing herself to relax a little at the warm greeting Seven moved forward, sitting herself down and watching as Kathryn stepped over to her neat office desk and picked up the wine bottle in one hand and the two glasses in her other.  
She turned to face Seven and held both up for show.  
“I hear from Jean Luc that you tolerate this a little better than twenty years ago?”, Janeway gave a little grin as she thought back.  
“I have adapted”, Seven confirmed whilst realising to herself that in the presence of Janeway she was subconsciously reverting to speech patterns of old.  
“That’s good to hear, because I can never get the damn corks out of these real ones, that’s why I usually stick to what I know best....a good old replicated glass of wine”.  
Janeway sat, keeping a respectful distance from Seven so as not to crowd her after all these years. There was still after all the matter of several delicate unanswered questions Janeway wished to pose.  
She placed the bottle on the table and set a glass before each of them.  
Seven watched as Kathryn reached for and fumbled with the corkscrew.  
“The Vidians... the Hirogen... the Borg... not a problem, but these damn things?”, the Admiral shrugged as she gave the cork a frustrated glare.  
Seven leaned forward and extended a hand, “Allow me”.  
Defeated, Kathryn handed the bottle and half stabbed cork with corkscrew still protruding to the former Borg.  
Seven opened the bottle with ease, placing the bottle back on the table and the corkscrew down next to it.  
“Thank you Seven”, Janeway said as she picked up the bottle and filled thier glasses, first Seven’s and then her own, “I’m afraid it’s not a Chateaux Picard though, this one’s from nearer my neck of the woods”.  
Janeway raised her glass and looked to Seven.  
“To...”, she paused momentarily, choosing her words carefully given the subjects she wished to carefully broach with her guest, “...old times”.  
“Old times...”, Seven returned the gesture and raised her own glass, “...old times... best left in the past”.  
The two glasses clinked and each took a sip of the wine in silence.  
Despite the friendly welcome, Seven had soon noted the atmosphere still held within it an uncomfortable tension. She reasoned that the ever perceptive Admiral would also have noticed and probably even anticipated this.  
“Do feel free to take your jacket off Seven”, Janeway broke the silence, “I do hope you’ll be staying a little while, after all we’ve a lot to catch up on”.  
With a nod Seven placed her glass down on the table and complied, removing her jacket and placing it neatly beside her.  
“I must say Seven”, Janeway began as she sipped her wine, “this less formal look, it actually suits you well”.  
Returning to again pick up her own glass Seven replied, “We’re you expecting something else, a biosuit perhaps? Twenty years have passed Captain, I make my own choices now”.  
Janeway seemed slightly taken aback, her face losing a little of its ease upon noticing Seven’s defensiveness at her words.  
Sensing this the Admiral moved to a more conciliatory tone.  
“Forgive me I wasn’t judging you Seven”, she began, “it’s just that sometimes twenty years feels like five minutes ago, and the last time we met you were only just beginning to experiment with choices in clothing”.  
Seven eased slightly as Kathryn spoke, “twenty years ago the status of my skin regrowth was considered satisfactory...I was able to remove the biosuit for approximately three days a week. It is now consigned to the past”, Seven confirmed in a tone that sounded simply factual rather than conversational.  
“You had some lovely dresses”, Janeway smiled, “you wore a lovely blue dress the last time I came to dinner if you recall, you said Chakotay had bought it for...”.  
The Admiral fell silent as she noticed how Seven broke her eye contact and looked away at the mention of Chakotay.  
“Well... I guess dresses wouldn’t be appropriate nowadays in your line of work”, Janeway deliberately moved the subject on, “I guess there’s not much call for dresses as a Fenris Ranger?”  
Seven remained silent. She waited a moment and took a larger mouthful of the wine before placing the glass back down on the table.  
For several awkward moments the room was again silent as Seven looked studiously at Janeway.  
“Captain, why have you summoned me here?”, she finally asked, taking control of the conversation and once again purposely ignoring the title of Admiral.  
It was Janeway herself who now took in a large breath.  
The Admiral rose to her feet, a frown appearing as she stood. Turning her back to Seven she moved a few slow paces to the window and looked out for several moments observing the stars, the station and the freighter La Sirena as she chose how to best direct her words.  
Without a word, Kathryn turned back, leaning against the window ledge and taking a mouthful of her wine while looking down at Seven from where she stood.  
“Alright Seven, how’s this going to go?”, Janeway’s tone changed to more like the captain of old during times when they frequently disagreed, “I’ve tried being polite but you and I both know there’s an elephant in the room”.  
Seven’s ocular implant raised upon hearing the unfamiliar expression.  
“It’s an old Earth expression Seven, it means there are topics two people in a conversation are deliberately trying to avoid”.  
The xB gave a half smile to herself and a brief and near silent chuckle under her breath, shaking her head dismissively as she did so.  
“So I was right about this little ‘catch up’ all along”, Seven remarked as her eyes fixed on Janeway’s own, “this isn’t a catch up is it? This is an interrogation.”  
Janeway stepped forward as her look became a glare, “There are things, things people need an explanation for Seven.”  
“Are there...”, Seven’s voice remained calm and composed where she sat as she tried hard to avoid a more emotional response.  
“Yes Seven there are. People were worried sick when you disappeared, your friends, myself, and did you ever stop to think what your actions did to Chakotay?”, the anger in Janeway’s voice was clearly rising and then she paused, stepping forward again to the coffee table where she glared down at Seven.  
Seven still held her gaze.  
“Seven...”, Janeway’s voice became quiet yet sharp, an almost acidic whisper “...what you did to Chakotay was deplorable!”.  
“I had my reasons”, Seven’s tone was firm yet her eyes momentarily broke from Janeway’s, darting everywhere else for the briefest of moments as she digested the strength of Janeway’s words.  
Janeway moved again, pacing to her desk and then back to the window before stopping once again to look back and engage Seven.  
“That man loved you, loved you.... Do you know what it took for him to even acknowledge that, for him to place his trust in a woman again after everything Seska did to him?”, the admirals eyes narrowed with anger as she stepped once more towards Seven, “Do you even know or care what became of him after your little vanishing act? Did you even try to find out? No? No? Ofcourse not but it’s alright because Seven has her reasons!”.  
Seven swallowed hard, considering wether or not to leave at that very moment.  
She had perfect recall of the route back to the Cenwulf’s transporter room and it would take her just minutes to leave, make the short walk and request the transporter chief return her to La Sirena and to Raffi.  
“I took control of my life”, Seven decided to press on and remain even if for just a little longer.  
Kathryn leant over, placing her wine glass back down onto the table and rose back to her full height placing her hands authoritatively on her hips.  
“You destroyed Chakotay Seven”, Janeway’s voice was firm yet her anger palpable,  
“When he came home and found you gone he was at first worried, he called everyone to ask if we’d seen you, as the evening went on he called the authorities incase you’d been in an accident, and when he realised you’d packed a bag and clothes he knew the truth.... that you’d left him, you left him without so much as the decency of a note or recorded message, nothing, absolutely nothing...”.  
Seven’s posture altered. She breathed out and her shoulders fell slightly. She looked down for several moments as she recalled her own memory of hastily packing her bag those many years ago and the roaring tide of emotions she had felt with it.  
“You were his everything. He quit his teaching post at the academy, cut off contact with most of us, refused to return our calls and fell into a deep bout of depression. He was a mess Seven, and it was over a month before he finally let me in to help him. When he finally let me in he he was barely eating, hadn’t shaved, he was in a bad, bad place. First Seska, now you... Let me tell you one thing Seven, he took the time to remind me of the time he once warned me against forming an alliance with the Borg, reminding me of the fable of the scorpion and the fox and how the the scorpion would always return to it’s nature. Well Seven, it seems the scorpion did just that”.  
The fingers of Seven’s left hand flexed slowly in response and her back straightened as she took in a controlled breath and swallowed hard. A surge of both regret and anger washed over her as she heard Kathryn’s words. It was not a good feeling.  
Kathryn’s final words had stung Seven sharply, the scorpion comparison being particularly painful to hear. Instinctively she felt the urge to fight back, to stand up and defend herself, but the words of her actions affect on Chakotay had winded her, leaving her unable to easily find her words.  
In the silence Seven reached out, her right hand again picking up the wine glass and consuming a generous amount of the liquid as her mind processed her former captains words.  
She closed her eyes as she swallowed the wine, thinking with emotion awash.  
Quietly she placed the now empty glass back down and considered her next words.  
“It was not my intent to harm him”, Seven spoke more softly this time, “I assumed he would adapt”.  
“You were wrong”, Janeway replied and folded her arms across her chest, “care to offer an explanation?”.  
Knowing how unable she felt to speak the painful truth of the past Seven fell silent. Only one other individual knew the truth of what had happened years earlier and they were sworn to a confidentiality which had been upheld for two decades.  
Brushing a hand through her hair she corrected her composure. She took a deep breath into her chest and pushed down the memories and pain of the untold truth about her actions, straightened her back and shoulders to a confident posture and raised her head defiantly.  
She new it was for show, she knew inwardly it did not reflect her current feelings at all, not after these revelations.  
Through all these years Seven had learned that putting on a front, an act, had often been her best defence. Right now, unable to express what she really felt, the act was again her only line of defence.  
“You hurt a lot of people Seven...”, Janeway leant forward over the table and picked the wine bottle up once more, refilling Seven’s empty glass and topping up her own almost empty glass while not once taking her eyes off the former drone’s own blue eyes, “...including myself”.  
Kathryn lifted her glass to her lips and drank. The silence created a sizeable pause in the proceedings within which neither spoke.  
Janeway remained standing, watching Seven the entire time and raising an eyebrow of her own as if to say ‘your move’.  
Seven herself regarded Janeway, considering wether or not to to delve into the thoughts that had troubled her throughout the last few years as she had matured as an individual and into the woman she was today.  
She lifted her newly refilled glass and looked to Kathryn.  
Janeway raised her glass in a silent toast gesture from where she stood before Seven. The former Borg reciprocated the gesture, raising her own glass towards Janeway.  
Both knew this was to symbolise the fact that either was backing down from this verbal game of chess they had begun.  
Again in silence both took a drink.  
“I made my own path, my own choices, my own decisions.”, Seven began in answer to Kathryn’s request for an explanation, “for the first time in my life I chose what I wanted, where I went, what I did. For the first time in my life I was truly free, unlike on Voyager”.  
She had done it, Seven thought, she had finally touched on the subject Raffi had earlier described as ‘toxic’, a subject that had rightly or wrongly eaten away at her many times upon reflection throughout the years.  
Kathryn Janeway raised her head, jutting her chin out as if having just been challenged. It was a look Seven had seen many times before, ironically onboard Voyager whenever an adversary had challenged her authority or threatened her ship and crew.  
“Clarify, as you might once have said”, Janeway urged taking another sip of the wine.  
With her wine glass in hand Seven rose to her feet, bringing herself face to face with Kathryn as she felt her nanoprobes begin thier attempt at minimising the affect of the wine.  
“Clarify...”, Seven repeated Janeway’s request as her lips pursed into a brief bemused grin as she shook her head slowly, “where would you even like me to begin?”.  
“At the beginning”, the Admiral suggested, “it’s where most people start”.  
Both once more sipped their wine and Seven stepped slowly around the coffee table to bring herself to stand nearer before Janeway.  
She stopped roughly two feet before her former captain, a scene which had been played out many times before onboard Voyager usually moments prior to an inevitable clash of opinions in the ready room.  
“I’ve had a lot of time to reflect Captain”, Seven spoke after swallowing her sip of wine, “a lot of time reevaluate the past”.  
Janeway swirled her wine around her glass, herself taking a sip too, “Well if you’ve got something to say Seven let’s hear it”.  
Once more Seven raised her head high before Janeway in the confident posture of her Ranger persona, yet part of her longed for some support in these matters she had never before spoken of.  
Despite this, she felt that these words were for Janeway alone, that these were words too traumatic to ever share even with the warmth, comfort and understanding that was Raffi. She just couldn’t...  
These were not words, these were wounds.  
“Captain”, she began with a comforting sip of wine, “You once took a single drone. You severed her from the collective without her consent. You had her body stripped of parts. You locked her, me, away in your brig alone. Alone. You shut away alone someone who had never before heard silence, someone who had never been alone. You spoke of individuality, of reclaiming my humanity, yet I was put to work during the day and discarded to your cargo bay when not required”.  
Janeway took one more sip and folded her arms across her chest defensively as she listened.  
“Everything I did was for your own good Seven”, the Admiral rebutted, “when you were severed from the collective you were in no state of mind to make decisions. Oh and I didn’t “strip” your body of implants, your body was rejecting them and you know that damn well”.  
Seven gritted her teeth behind her pursed lips as she attempted to contain a rising anger.  
“Then let me ask you a question Captain...”, the former drone took another sip of her wine as she decided on the words she needed.  
“Go on...”, Janeway frowned at the woman stood before her.  
Seven waited for several moments, the fingers of her left hand twitching behind her back out of the admirals sight and her right hand holding the wine glass as she considered a question that had remained in the back of her mind for so many years.  
Forcing herself into a more calm disposition Seven moved a few steps away towards Janeways desk. She turned back to face the admiral, leaning her backside against the edge of the desk in a manner far more casual than the Seven of old as she once more looked at the older woman.  
“I must know”, she looked away momentarily - something she always subconsciously did when she felt discomfort - before once more fixing her eyes upon Janeway, “had I refused to join Voyager’s crew, what would have become of me?”.  
This time it was Janeway’s glare that altered, from anger to an expression that appeared to show the question had caught her off guard.  
Seven made a subtle nod, almost to herself, as she regarded the person who once held in her hands every decision regarding her very existence.  
The xB spoke once more in an attempt to prompt a response.  
“Having come to know your tactics over the years it would be unlikely for you to not have had a backup plan”.  
Janeway briefly closed her eyes in thought and took in a little more of her wine.  
“All that matters Seven is that you made the right choice”, the admiral looked back again at the former Borg now leant against her desk.  
Seven rose from her casual stance, standing to her full height as she sensed that her question held a hidden answer.  
“Tell me...”, she simply spoke.  
Kathryn took another sip, picked up the wine bottle and stepped again towards Seven.  
“There was a backup plan”, she admitted and waved her free hand as if to dismiss the idea, “but that’s all it ever was”.  
“Elaborate”, Seven urged with a rise of her ocular implant.  
Janeway reached out, again filling Seven’s wine glass and then her own before placing the now empty bottle down on her desk. She pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her eyes briefly, full in the knowledge that Seven wasn’t going to like what was to follow.  
“You were dangerous Seven, you knew too much about Voyager, it’s crew, it’s defences, and it’s weaknesses”, Kathryn began in her matter of factly situation-explanation voice, “if we had let you go you would have made contact with the Collective and given them our position upon re-assimilation, if we had kept you in the brig longterm I’m certain you would have eventually found a way to break out...I had to contain the threat, minimise the risk to Voyager...”.  
Seven remained silent, the wine glass in her hand almost forgotten as she listened to the fate she had almost borne.  
Janeway herself fell silent for several seconds as she considered the weight of her revelation.  
“What would you have done in my position Seven?”, Kathryn challenged, “I had Voyager and over one hundred crew to protect”.  
“I would have destroyed the drone”, Seven answered, her response a logical weighing up of the question and tactics.  
Janeway sighed and gave a light squeeze to Seven’s arm briefly in the hope that she would understand that this had been the plan of many years ago and the captain who had, at that point, not yet befriended the drone that had become the woman who stood before her now.  
“I had Tuvok prepare for the brig to be flooded with a gas to render you unconscious”, Janeway explained as her eyes searched Seven’s for understanding, “from there you were to be taken to sickbay and placed in stasis for the remainder of our journey after which you would have been handed over to Starfleet to enable further study of the Borg. It’s unlikely that you would have ever known freedom”.  
Silence fell between both women and Seven slowly placed her wine glass down on the desk as the weight and meaning of this new information sank in.  
Seven exhaled slowly as she processed the thoughts of what could have been, “...and you eventually return with Voyager, perhaps in the hope that a captured Borg would prompt Starfleet to offer leniency for the stranding of your ship?”.  
“Don’t twist the facts Seven, it was a backup plan that I am proud was never utilised”, Janeway snapped back in clear offence.  
Seven shook her head and her hands clasped tightly behind her straightened back yet again as she stood her ground to make her point face to face.  
“You would have willingly sacrificed your terrified drone to Starfleet and yet you dared to criticise me when I saved Voyager by sending Species 8472 to the Hirogen?”, Seven’s left hand clenched tight behind her back as emotion began to rush through her veins.  
“That was different”, Janeway’s voice raised somewhat as the former Borg continued to anger her.  
“So much for your compassion for those who are suffering...”, Seven shook her head, “Do you not recall once lecturing me about the Cardassian you saved as a young Lieutenant?”  
Janeway breathed out with a loud exhale as her frustration grew with the direction this reunion had taken. She had always known Seven could be difficult and it would seem that two decades had certainly not mellowed her stubbornness.  
“I told you then and I’ll say it again now it was the right thing to do, unlike the action you chose to take against Species 8472 Seven”.  
“My actions saved Voyager... but how many Bajorans did your Cardassian go on to murder?”, Seven’s voice was forceful, defiant.  
Janeway fell silent and her jaw tightened as the implications of Seven’s words riled her temper.  
Both women stood facing each other in hostile stillness as their twenty years of bitterness reached its boiling point.  
The admiral took one more drink from her wine glass and then placed her glass down on the desk too.  
She looked again at the xB stood close before her as she attempted to reconcile the Seven she saw now with the Seven she mentored onboard Voyager.  
“I don’t know what you’ve become Seven”, she simply stated with notable displeasure clear in her voice.  
“What you set out to make me, an individual”, Seven replied and held Janeway’s gaze without falter, “as opposed to your Borg trophy from the Delta quadrant”.  
Janeway’s hand moved from her side with temper driven speed as she delivered a swift sharp slap to Seven’s face.  
“I never set out to create a cold blooded killer!”, Janeway stood firm and spoke coldly as she stared down the former drone.  
Seven touched her stinging cheek briefly with her Borg left hand, caught completely by surprise by both Janeway’s unprecedented action and words.  
She brushed a hand through her long blonde hair, several strands of which had become displaced across her face by the force of Janeway’s slap.  
The former captain placed her hands on her hips in a commanding posture now Seven had finally fallen silent.  
The xB said nothing and instead looked on cautiously, waiting for Janeway to explain the meaning of her words.  
“Now I have your undivided attention Seven you can either get out”, Kathryn pointed to the door, “or explain to me just how you became involved with the Fenris Rangers and why I’ve heard vague yet disturbing reports of a massacre involving a former Borg matching your description on Freecould”.  
Janeway’s voice and expression held a deadly seriousness to them and she concluded by pointing her finger away from the door and back to the sofa.  
“What’s happened to you Seven?”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Thank you to Trudy for the inspiration for the slap, and the line “Borg trophy from the Delta quadrant” because she thought up both for use in her fics and then couldn’t find any scene to use them in - BLAME HER FELLOW SEVEN FANS! ;)
> 
> ** Comments please because they make me HAPPY!
> 
> *** Thanks as every to Troodz for reading it through :D
> 
> **** Also I am so sorry I regularly take a long time to update this fic. I have enjoyed planning this one out but in the real world I am a shift worker and don’t have as much time as I would like to sit and write it. So please don’t give up when you see it’s gone un-updated for a while, I’m just busy in the real world.

**Author's Note:**

> Really hope nobody hated that O_o - comments greatly appreciated to give me a kick to get on with chapter 2 x x 
> 
> * I really do think Raffi & Seven would be each other’s safety net. Seven would moderate Raffi’s excesses and Raffi would do the same for Seven, help her deal with emotions and reign in her inclination to react with violence.  
> * Yes, Raffi can read Seven’s subtle mannerisms like a book.  
> * “Postman Picard” is a reference to a children’s TV show in the 1980’s named “Postman Pat”.  
> * Yes, Seven is deliberately ignoring Janeway’s promotion to admiral by still referring to her as Captain.  
> * The unhealed Borg bits in Seven’s right arm seemed a little small in Picard (although it might have healed better after 20 years) so just visualise whichever version you prefer.  
> * Raffi knows of Chakotay because the Voyager crew would have been huge news when the ship returned.  
> * Raffi lecturing Seven that she needn’t feel the need to “go sit at the back of the damn bus just cos you look a little different” is Raffi making a clear Rosa Parks reference with regards to the discrimination Seven has faced for being Borg.  
> * Raffi grabbing Seven isn’t meant in any abusive way, it’s just to snap Seven out of a self destructive mental state.  
> * Daman ship repair yard is a real shipyard in Dunkirk, France.  
> * The Federation Starship Cenwulf is named for a real ship, now scrapped, that your author had ties to.  
> * Yes, I have planted an absolute bombshell in Seven’s past that I feel will perfectly explain why her relationship with Chakotay ended. I feel it’s entirely plausible, her reaction is totally in character and ofcourse Janeway will demand an explanation...but thats for chapter 2...


End file.
